Of Guilt, Blame, and Misappropriated Weaponry
by Aoitori
Summary: Tag to 4x8, "Lamia." When Arthur discovers what his knights did to his servant while under the creature's influence, he and Merlin get into a bit of a row over what should be done about it. Chapter 5: Back in Camelot with Arthur and a visit from Gwaine.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, or any of them. They, at least, would be grateful!

_Note_: This is a tag to one of the ending scenes of 4x8, "Lamia."(any other Final Fantasy fans know exactly what this episode was about when they read the title? hehe) I've had it in the works since shortly after the actual episode aired but it took some intense procrastination for the beginning of a new semester to inspire me to find an ending for it. And yes, I'm aware that this has been done and re-done and over-done and well-done and every other variety of done. Well, perhaps except this one. That's the point of it, really. I'm hoping to show you a different side of Merlin's response to what happened with the way the knights treated him and Gwen in this episode. For the purposes of my story you're going to have to assume that various of the knights were indiscriminately, physically unkind to our favorite warlock during the countless hours of off-screen time they had while enchanted (not much of a stretch, I think, all things considered). For once, I'm not entirely sure if I want to be finished with this in one chapter. I definitely have material for another (though I can't promise when it might spring into existence), so I won't mark it 'complete' just yet. If you want more, please tell me by review. Likewise, if you are satisfied with where it ends, I may declare it finished. In any case, I hope you read, review, and enjoy! Yoroshiku ne!

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><p><span>Of Guilt, Blame, and Misappropriated Weaponry<span>

_*Chapter 1*_

"Well don't think about it too hard- I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," said Merlin, smug as ever.

For once, Arthur didn't offer a verbal retort. He just made a face and cuffed his friend lightly. Then he turned away to see to preparations for their departure.

That would have been the end of it, if he hadn't cast a glance behind him as he walked away and caught a glimpse of something odd out of the corner of his eye.

Merlin's grin of indignation at being thumped by his master was momentarily replaced by a short, but very real, grimace of pain.

Arthur swung back round and pointed a finger at his surprised servant. "What was that?"

Merlin blinked in unfeigned ignorance. "What was what?"

"That look."

"What look?"

"Just now- you had a look."

Merlin raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I really don't know what you're talking about, sire." The 'sire' bit was a bad choice- Merlin could see Arthur's suspicions growing.

"You looked," said Arthur, eyes narrowed, "like you were _hiding_ something."

Before Merlin could object, he reached out and grasped the arm he had punched moments earlier.

Merlin looked at the hand on him, looked up at Arthur, who was still scrutinizing him with deep suspicion, and looked back down at the hand. He said nothing.

Slowly Arthur's grip tightened. He didn't have to increase the pressure by much before-

"Owww! Okay, stop!"

And Arthur released him immediately. He towered over Merlin, arms crossed, and put on a glare that clearly said ,"_Now what do you have to say for yourself, _Mer_lin?_" to his somewhat embarrassed servant.

"So I've got a bruise," Merlin scoffed, pulling a face and shrugging, albeit a tad stiffly. "You _did_ see the size of the monster we were fighting. _You_ killed it, after all."

Arthur frowned, clearly not buying it, "Ah, huh..." he said.

Merlin moved to back away, but Arthur caught his sleeve. "Roll this up, then," he ordered.

"Arthur..." Merlin's voice held a note of pleading.

"_Now_," the king commanded flatly.

Merlin complied reluctantly- rolling up his sleeve to reveal an angry purple bruise that was only just beginning to fade to green at the edges. Worse; it was clearly in the shape of a very large handprint.

Arthur peered accusingly at his servant. "So the Lamia did that, did it?"

Merlin shrugged again, "It _was_ in human form before it changed into a monster."

"Oh yes," Arthur agreed, "It was a girl, according to Gwen. A girl with little, girly hands." He matched his hand to the handprint, demonstrating pointedly that it was even larger than his own.

Merlin looked down in defeat, finally out of excuses and evasions.

Arthur released Merlin's arm and tugged the sleeve back down for him. He waited a beat for Merlin to come forward with an explanation, but when the servant remained silent he went ahead himself. "Gwen told me the knights fell under some sort of enchantment- that they weren't acting themselves." He began in a measured tone. "She assured me that they never laid a hand on her..."

Merlin nodded his vehement agreement, still not looking his master in the eye.

"It seems you, on the other hand, were a different story altogether."

Merlin put his hands up in a gesture of hopelessness, "You know me," he said, "never know when to keep my big mouth shut!" His laugh sounded forced, even to his ears.

Arthur breathed a noiseless sigh. "And that's what I was afraid of," he said with resignation.

Merlin gave him an apologetic smile.

Arthur frowned, closed his eyes, and ran his hand over his face, "Right," he finally said. "Just-," he grimaced, "pull up your shirt and lets see the rest of the damage, shall we?"

Merlin's eyes widened and he looked like he was ready to argue afresh, but Arthur fixed him with a glare that said, "_Do it, or I'll make you." _And the thought of getting manhandled by a furious Arthur did not appeal, so Merlin quickly looked to either side of himself, making sure he wan't being observed, and did as his master had instructed.

And instantly regretted it.

Merlin watched and saw cool blue eyes catch fire with righteous anger as Arthur surveyed his servant's thin frame.

Merlin, too, glanced down, knowing more or less what to expect but having had yet to examine himself after the battle. Even his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he saw a truly impressive collection of livid bruises decorating his pale torso, and a few considerably darker ones marring the left side of his rib cage. That bit actually looked better than it felt. Those ribs grated together every time he took a breath.

"What in God's name...!" Arthur nearly roared when he finally found his voice.

Merlin dropped the shirt and gave Arthur a look that begged him to keep his voice down.

"You look like you were trampled by a horse!"

Merlin scrunched up his eyebrows in an expression that was clearly meant to tell Arthur he was being preposterous.

"Not just one horse, though- maybe a whole mounted regiment!" Arthur continued his rant, though at a slightly lower volume. "Injured or not, I swear, those men are going to get a piece of my mind..." he said with a growl and turned towards the door behind which his four knights were being tended by Gaius.

"Arthur, please." Merlin said admonishingly, standing up quickly (more quickly than his ribs approved) to catch the king by the arm.

'No, Merlin." He shook the arm free, but at least turned back to face Merlin again.

"Arthur, they were under an enchantment..."

"There is _no_ excuse! They were sent to _protect_ you and Gwen." His lip curled as something occurred to him, "When I even _think_ what might have happened to her..."

"Arthur." Merlin said in such a sharp tone that the king's rant was temporarily stalled. "You really believe I would have let _anything_ happen to Gwen at their hands."

Arthur looked incredulous, "And how do _you_ propose to have protected her?"

Merlin looked Arthur in the eye. There was hurt there, bordering on anger. Then he glanced meaningfully down at his now-covered injuries.

Arthur took a step back. "You don't mean..."

Merlin looked at him coolly. "Lets just say, whenever I had _any _reason to suspect that she might come to harm, I made _certain_ that their attention was fixed on _me_."

Arthur stared, stunned. He had thought he knew the measure of Merlin's bravery and self-sacrifice, yet he was unprepared for this revelation. It was several moments before he finally placed a firm hand on his servant's shoulder and stammered a heartfelt, "Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin brushed off the thanks with the hand, instead taking the opportunity he'd created by silencing Arthur. "Look," he said seriously, "They are still recovering. Gwen and I have forgiven them. If you _must _bring the matter before them, will you at least wait till they are off their sickbeds?"

Arthur looked downright dissatisfied, but acquiesced with a slow nod. "But what of you, then?" He asked, gesturing toward's Merlin's chest. "I'm no physician, but I've good reason to know that when ribs look like _that-_ they need tending. Why haven't you had Gaius take a look?"

Merlin shrugged and gave a short laugh, as if the matter weren't even worth considering. "He's had his hands full- I decided to wait."

"Well I was just in with him and he's not busy at the moment," Arthur said, pleased to finally take action, "So..." he put an arm around Merlin's shoulders and began guiding him towards the door.

"Arthur, don't..." Merlin pulled back, resisting.

Arthur, confident in his decision, simply enlisted his other arm and forced Merlin along.

"Its not..." Merlin tried to twist away as they reached the door, but, weakened as he was, did not succeed.

"Arthur, NO!" The near-panic in his servant's voice stopped Arthur cold and he released Merlin, who quickly backed away from the door.

"What's the _matter_?" Arthur demanded. "Surely you're not..." He looked at Merlin closely. "You're not, _afraid_ of them now, are you?" He made it sound like an impugnment, but the vengeful fire was back in his eyes and it's wrath wasn't meant for his servant.

But Merlin's eyes widened and he looked genuinely insulted. He opened his mouth as if to speak but only uttered a short laugh before shaking his head and walking further from the door to sit on the edge of a nearby wagon.

Arthur followed, and raised his hands to the side with a, "What?" before joining him.

"I'm not..." Merlin began, then shook his head once more, "I can't believe that's what you think of me."

Arthur just frowned, confused.

"I'm not _afraid _of them." Merlin explained. "I'm afraid of _hurting _them."

Arthur's frown deepened, but for once he let Merlin continue.

"Four of my best friends are lying in that room recovering from being controlled, abused, and finally half-killed by some sort of long-extinct magical monster. If they remember anything at all from their time under her influence, it's probably only snatches of bad dreams. The last thing I'm going to do is walk in there and reveal to them that those nightmares are reality."

The king was still giving him a look that fell somewhat short of complete understanding.

"Arthur, imagine how you would feel if you found out that _you_ had done _this _to _me."_

Arthur paled. The thought made him sick.

Merlin saw the look on his face, "Exactly." he said.

Not for the first time this day, Arthur grew unexpectedly in respect for his servant.

Merlin waited a beat and then sat back a bit further. "So I'm afraid if you really want me to see Gaius you're going to have to go and fetch him out here yourself." He said with a small, slightly smug smile.

Arthur, who had been more than ready to do just that, had to pause, "Now wait a second-" he said, standing up and facing his friend, "That sounded suspiciously like an order, _Mer_lin. Since when does a king '_go and fetch_' people for his servant?"

"I dunno..." Merlin said lightly, playing at giving the question consideration. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Maybe when that king is feeling grateful that said servant risked his life for his lady, or when he's sorry for impugning that servant's honor, or at least when he'd rather not find a replacement when the servant dies of a punctured lung..." Merlin shrugged, "Take your pick."

Arthur cocked his head and then shook it with a very false grimace, "Sorry Merlin, wrong on all counts. I can't think of _any_ circumstance that would justify that kind of indignity." He raised his arms and shrugged as if to say it simply couldn't be helped.

"Luckily for you, I _happen_ to have left my sword in there." he gestured to the doorway as he backed toward it. "And as I retrieve it, I _may_ mention your situation to Gaius- if I remember."

"If you remember." Merlin repeated, trying to hide a smile.

"_If_." Arthur pointed at Merlin before disappearing through the doorway.

Merlin smiled warmly and smirked as his friend left. Then he got back to work.

Several minutes later a familiar figure emerged from the hut and stormed toward him toting a medicine basket. "_Merlin!" _Gaius nearly yelled.

Behind him, the king slipped quietly out the door and headed in the opposite direction, glancing back at guardian and ward and trying with little success to stifle a wide grin.

Merlin looked up just as Arthur disappeared around the side of a building.

He didn't see the grin. But he did catch sight of the sword now hanging on Arthur's belt.

It was most definitely Percival's.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note_: To those who reviewed: Love you so much! You are such a great encouragement! To those of you following this story: Wow! Thanks! You're brilliant! You've also discovered that I am slooooooow to update. Yep. Its true. I could offer a number of explanations, but mostly I should offer an apology: Honto ni gomennasai. Strangely, this story has already finished taking shape in my mind. It will have 2 more chapters after this ('what? really?"- *nods*)-one more taking place on the road home, and one back in Camelot. Unfortunately, they still only exist in my mind, so if you want to speed them along into type, please tell me so by reviewing! Thank you again for your response so far! Matta yoroshiku ne!

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><p><em>*Chapter 2*<em>

"Oh, not to worry, sire. Merlin will live."

Arthur frowned slightly at Gaius. He didn't like to be accused of _worrying_, and certainly not about _Merlin_, but then again it would be ungracious and more than a little petty of him to argue semantics with the aging physician, especially after all Gaius had done for his men and the people of the village.

Gaius had been hard at work and it wasn't until this, the following morning, that Arthur had finally been able to catch the old man alone to check that his servant was indeed on the mend.

"I was able to bind his ribs..." Gaius continued as he proceeded with packing the tools of his trade for the return voyage, "several of which were broken, I dread to imagine how..." the physician trailed off, and Arthur saw, hidden behind layers of professional dispassion, an anger in his old friend that burned at least as fiercely as his own.

"But none of his internal organs seem to have been damaged, so his life is not in any real danger," Gaius went on, eyes flicking up as he noticed Merlin getting the horses ready over at the other side of the village.

Arthur nodded pensively.

"You, sire, would know better than I the pain of such an injury," Arthur's eyebrows bounced up once at that, as he bobbed his head tersely. He'd had more than his fair share of experience with broken ribs, but it had always been a natural consequence of his profession, and one that he was prepared to accept, if sometimes begrudgingly. Merlin, on the other hand, had no such obligation, and the sight of his servant's thin frame so mistreated was still unsettling to recall.

"...but I would estimate only a few weeks," the physician went on, "before he is fully recovered." Gaius looked back at Merlin thoughtfully, "That is, as long as he doesn't put unnecessary strain on the injury," he added.

As if on cue, and right before their eyes, the distant figure of the manservant in question could be seen attempting to lift a particularly heavy saddle to a waiting horse's back.

Arthur pulled a face and stepped forward, muttering "_Idiot!_" but was stopped short by the sight of Gwaine bursting out of seemingly nowhere to come to his friend's aid.

Merlin flinched visibly at the knight's sudden appearance and Arthur grimaced in sympathy. Merlin may have chosen to forgive his friends, but memories imprinted on flesh are hard to master. The servant could willingly forget what had been done to him, but his own body had yet to be taught not to remember. Fortunately Gwaine seemed to take it simply as a reaction to the surprise and went on affably wresting Merlin's burden from him and hoisting it to the horse's back.

Arthur and Gaius spent a moment watching in silence, though too far away to listen in, as Merlin kept up an impeccable facade of normalcy, joking around with his friend and finally enlisting his help with the rest of the horses.

Arthur looked down, brows furrowed, before turning back to the older man: "It seems I owe you an apology, Gaius," he said seriously.

"Whatever for, your highness?"

"It was my knights who brought injury to your ward. They are my responsibility and so it is my responsibility to make recompense."

"I assure you, my Lord, no recompense is necessary. I am given to understand that they were not acting of their own volition. They are not to be held responsible for their actions and neither are you."

Arthur inclined his head slightly to his old friend and smiled grimly. "Thank you, Gaius."

The physician acknowledged the thanks with a slight nod, but then, "Not at all," he said, "In point of fact, I should be thanking you."

Arthur frowned.

"For alerting me to Merlin's...situation."

The king raised a questioning eyebrow.

"The boy is sometimes...reluctant...to seek treatment." Gaius explained carefully. "I'm sure it is only to spare my feelings, but at times I fear he may do himself harm."

Arthur considered this. It was hard to imagine his clumsy manservant who whinged and moaned about every little inconvenience, from being saddle sore after a long ride to being attacked by bandits, _again, _as the sort of person who would hide a major injury to spare his friends. But even as he watched he saw Merlin take a conspiratorial jab to the arm (which Arthur _knew_ was badly bruised) and grin right through it like he hadn't a care in the world. The uneasy feeling in the pit of Arthur's stomach grew as he was forced to acknowledge the fact that Merlin was actually _skilled_ at masking pain. Could he dare speculate how much of that skill had been developed while under his service? He turned to Gaius, thinking of brooking the subject, but the old man was busying himself about his work and bore an expression that indicated he felt he'd said too much already.

Arthur just shook his head to clear it. "Well Gaius," he finally said, putting a hand to the old man's shoulder, "we ride in half an hour. If you need anything, I'll send...," he paused, reconsidering, "rather- just let me know."

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><p>Several hours down the road saw their small party stopped alongside a quiet stream for a stretch and some lunch.<p>

It was just Arthur, Gaius, and the recently recovered knights (and Merlin, of course) because Agravaine had taken the rest of the party back to Camelot early the day before, citing the need for at least one royal back in the palace as soon as possible. He had also insisted on taking one of the servants and Gwen had volunteered, saying that she had things to attend to at the castle. In actuality she'd wanted Merlin to remain under Gaius's care, and Merlin, for entirely unrelated reasons, had probably never been more grateful.

As was always the case when he was the only servant on an expedition, Merlin took care of their simple meal with efficiency that belied his renowned clumsiness. Although his injuries left him a bit stiff, and riding horseback was never particularly pleasant with broken ribs, he found that, all things considered, he was doing at least as well as could be expected.

And then there were the knights. Though most of them remained somewhat weakened thanks to the draining effect of the Lamia's kiss, Merlin couldn't help but notice that they were being oddly...helpful. At first he considered that this might only be by comparison to their most recent behavior, but when Gwaine watered the horses, Elyan fed them (Merlin couldn't quite bring himself to tell him that they really didn't need feeding at noonday), and Leon set to repacking the saddle bags, the warlock became quite convinced that their actions were distinctly out of the ordinary.

He wasn't the only one to notice.

As Merlin sat on a creek-side rock and worked on washing the few items that had been necessary for their repast, Arthur strolled up, acting just nonchalant enough to be markedly suspicious. He crouched down beside his servant in what would have been an ideal spot for washing a few bowls (if he could ever be expected to even consider being that helpful) and promptly whispered in Merlin's ear, "Someone must have told them."

Merlin frowned and cocked his head. Then he mouthed, '_Them?'_

Arthur swiftly nodded back in the direction of his knights who were cinching up girths, buckling bridles, and otherwise preparing to get back on the road. "About what they...you know..._did_." He nodded back at Merlin to clarify.

Merlin pulled a face. "What gives you that idea?" He asked in a harsh whisper. It was hard to balance speaking volume against the gurgle of the stream.

"Come on, _Mer_lin, it can't have escaped your notice that they're being unaccountably..._nice_...to you today."

Merlin feigned offense, "I wouldn't say _unaccountably_." he objected quietly, "I'm a likable person, and a very good servant besides. Perhaps they just finally decided to show a little appreciation!"

Arthur stared for a moment.

"No, that can't be it." he whispered flatly.

Merlin grinned and rolled his eyes, 'accidentally' splashing Arthur as he rinsed out a bowl.

"Oi!" the king complained a bit too loudly for their covert conversation.

Merlin 'shush'ed him with a look of reproof.

"_You're _going to have to polish this when it rusts!" Arthur whispered pointedly.

"_I'm_ going to have to polish it anyway!"

Arthur paused, then raised his eyebrows in a way that said, 'good point.'

Then Merlin leaned in conspiratorially and Arthur reciprocated.

"Actually..." the servant said very quietly, "I'm with you on this one. They _have _been acting very strangely. Percival even tried to help me with the washing up."

Arthur nodded, having noticed this himself.

"He nearly broke a plate!"

Arthur shrugged, "The man has big hands."

"It was a steel plate, Arthur!"

The king snorted.

"The real question," Merlin continued, "is _who _might have told them."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

"Obviously _I _didn't." The servant said.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm _not _going to, so stop looking at me like that."

Arthur grimaced but didn't object, "How about Gaius?" He asked, "He looked none too happy about their handiwork."

Now it was Merlin's turn to grimace. "No. It took some persuasion, but he gave me his word that he wouldn't."

Arthur gave him a sour look.

Merlin went on, "And I know _you _haven't, so-"

"—Hang _on." _Arthur interjected, "How do you _know _I haven't?" he demanded, very nearly dropping the whisper entirely.

Merlin grinned, "Let's see," he whispered, "Each of them is still in possession of all his limbs, for a start."

And Arthur couldn't help but grin back, clearly taking the statement as a comment on his battle prowess.

"The point is-" continued Merlin, "If they weren't told, it seems they've either begun to recall or to suspect."

Again Arthur was skeptical. Never mind that he had worked it out- he didn't quite credit his knights with being observant enough to see past Merlin's charade.

Merlin glanced behind him and paled noticeably before telling Arthur, "'Course, if they haven't already, they're bound to suspect _something _if we keep sitting here whispering like girls..." He gestured back towards the knights with the final plate he'd just washed.

Arthur half-turned, mouth open to object to several parts of Merlin's statement, when he froze.

Behind them the entire rest of their party was mounted up, fully prepared for departure, and eying the king and his manservant with a wide range of quizzical expressions.

Arthur's mouth snapped shut. He swiftly grabbed the handful of cleaned dishes Merlin had just finished ('*_Now* he wants to look like he helped_,' Merlin thought wryly), and then grabbed a handful of his servant's jacket and hauled Merlin to his feet.

"Shake a leg, _Mer_lin." he complained loudly, marching his friend forward, "I don't know of anyone else in the kingdom who could take an entire hour to wash a few plates!" he huffed.

They stopped beside Arthur's horse and the king flipped open a saddle bag. All of the provisions for the journey home had been distributed evenly among the horses, and Arthur (remarkably) remembered that the plates had come from his own horse's pack.

"Honestly, Merlin, do I have to do everything myself?" By way of demonstration he quickly slipped the plates neatly into his pack. Or tried to. For some reason the damn things simply would. not. fit! He spent a few increasingly awkward moments shifting them about and finally trying force them in, simply to no avail.

A muffled laugh from behind them was enough to make Arthur wheel around with an accusing scowl, but Sir Leon, who was nearest, seemed to have taken a sudden interest in a nearby tree-branch. Gwaine, just behind him, was very studiously cleaning his fingernails with a too-large knife, and the rest of the knights were occupied with similar suspiciously mundane activities.

By the time Arthur turned back to Merlin and the saddlebags the plates were already tucked neatly inside, and the servant was stood at attention with a self-satisfied smile writ large on his features.

At Arthur's look of disbelief Merlin put his hands up, wiggled his fingers and said, "Magic," with smug sarcasm.

Arthur went from surprised to furious in half an instant. With a less than friendly hand gripping his friend's shoulder, he drew Merlin aside and snarled in his ear, "Thanks a _lot, Mer_lin." Merlin straightened in order to offer a cheeky grin in return but Arthur pulled him back in. "And if you _ever _call me a _girl _again- _you're a dead ma_n." He released his servant and strode back to his horse to mount up.

Merlin took just a moment to feign shock before he called after- "But you always call m-"

He was stopped short by Arthur pointing an accusing finger and an even more scathing glare at him.

Merlin looked down, silent, in a show of penitence.

He waited till Arthur had a foot in the stirrup before he leaned in and said, just loud enough for Arthur to hear- "Yes, my lady."

Then he ran for it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Note_: Wow! Once again I am so encouraged by all your thoughtful responses! The fact that so many people are enjoying this is thrilling and a little terrifying. But it is definitely thanks to those of you who took the time to review that I was motivated to keep working on this, even during the busiest month of my year.

Strangely, this chapter ended up being only the first half of what I'd planned for the third part. So once again there are still two chapters to look forward to. Oops! On the plus side- the next chapter is already partly written, since it was originally part of this chapter, and it is soooo cute that I just can't wait to finish it. Hopefully that means an update will be coming your way soon! As always- reviews warm my heart! Yoroshikuonegaiitashimasu!

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><p><em>*Chapter 3* <em>

Merlin continued in fine form as their ride home drew onward. The way the young man busied himself skillfully baiting Arthur, chattering mindlessly with Gwaine, drawing Elyan and Percival into debates about training methodology, and even seeking advice from both Sir Leon and Gaius on their respective areas of expertise- there were moments that Arthur could almost believe Merlin was perfectly healthy and simply taking advantage of the goodwill resulting from his supposed bravery and injury.

Until the few moments when Arthur would glimpse his servant, thinking he was unobserved, having a private moment alone with his pain.

And then there was no doubt.

Arthur realized that his friend was probably just overdoing it to make up for the fact that he still wasn't feeling his best. And also probably trying to set to set their minds at ease. The knights, though clearly feeling repentant for something, still did not seem to know the extent of the damage they'd done to their young friend, and Merlin seemed determined to stymie any efforts of discovery by appearing, if anything, better than normal.

Arthur wondered if the others could see through Merlin the way he could now. But then, hadn't he been just as oblivious before?

They stopped in a clearing to make camp a bit early that evening and after starting the fire, one of those things things that Merlin was definitely, undeniably, good at, the servant disappeared from sight for a time. Arthur didn't give it much thought until he and Leon were tending to their horses and heard a clatter from the woods directly behind them. Both tensed instinctively, but Leon relaxed immediately.

Arthur gave him a questioning look, paused, then asked, "Where's Merlin?"

Leon smiled, then gestured in the direction of the noise, "Collecting firewood."

Arthur sighed, finished tying up his bridle, and headed into the trees.

"Sire, should I...?" Leon called after him.

"No." Arthur answered, perhaps a bit more sharply than was quite necessary, and waved the older knight off.

He found Merlin just inside the tree-line, struggling with an armful of wood. Several large pieces had fallen and Merlin was trying, without success, to reach for them without dropping the rest of the load or grinding it into his ribs.

He looked up to see Arthur, grimaced theatrically, and tried again.

He nearly fell over.

A steadying hand on his shoulder was the only thing that saved him.

"Really? Merlin?" Arthur asked, standing his servant up and then reaching down for the two logs himself. "_This_ seemed like a good idea?"

Merlin nodded impudently and then proffered his bundle. "Right here on top," he directed.

Arthur 'hmph'ed indignantly but placed the wood on the pile as directed, and then carefully but firmly extracted the entire bundle from Merlin's grip and turned back towards their camp.

"Al_right_." Merlin said, shrugging off his surprise. He turned and picked up another nearby stick, clearly intent on beginning another bundle.

"Nope." said Arthur flatly, "You're coming back with me."

Merlin held onto the stick but followed after Arthur.

"You know," the servant said presently, "That's not going to be enough firewood."

"Indeed." Arthur said in a sour tone, "So I'll be collecting some more."

"That's really not nec..."

Arthur silenced him with a glare.

"Fine!" Merlin said, putting hand and stick up in a gesture of surrender.

Merlin followed silently as Arthur stalked over to the fire pit and deposited the wood, ignoring the occasional looks of curiosity the others were trying not to give him.

As he turned to head back into the woods he found himself face to face with Merlin who was scrutinizing him with an appraising look. Arthur knew what it was for.

"I _do _know how to collect firewood, _Mer_lin" Arthur said with a scowl.

Merlin nodded but his expression of skepticism didn't change.

"You going to let me pass?" Arthur's voice was a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Merlin stepped lightly out of his way.

Arthur bowed sarcastically and pushed past.

"Just- don't bring back any sticks that are wet, alright?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and half turned to glare back at his servant as he walked.

"And try not to get any pine, it burns too quickly."

"Really, Merlin?"

"Oh, and I could use some birch bark for the tinder box."

"_MERLIN!_" Arthur shouted as he stalked off into the trees.

"'Shut up'?" Merlin hazarded.

"Exactly!"

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><p>Arthur Pendragon was never happy to admit, even to himself, that there was anything he wasn't good at. But as a king, he couldn't really be expected to know the difference between pine trees and, well, any other sort of trees, could he? And so it was at least a good half an hour later before he emerged from the tree-line with an armload of what he sincerely hoped was acceptable firewood.<p>

But as he stepped into the clearing and looked to the fire pit they'd marked out at the far end, he stopped short in surprise.

There by the fire stood Merlin, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Kneeling before him were all four of Arthur's knights. If he didn't know any better Arthur would suppose they were swearing fealty to the awkward manservant. An irrational rush of annoyance flooded him. The fact that the knights got on well with the servant was one thing- after all, most of them had been of Merlin's class before the unusual events that saw them elevated to knighthood- but, guilt-ridden or not, surely they were taking it too far!

He'd stepped forward to stride across the clearing and break up this foolishness when out of nowhere the light touch of a gnarled hand on his shoulder gave him pause and he looked to see Gaius beside him.

"If I may, sire-" the old physician began, as Arthur turned to face him, "I believe they are simply offering Merlin an apology."

"Indeed?" Arthur asked. He looked back at the knights, who, at second glance, did appear to have heads bowed in shame not obeisance. He even thought, as he saw Gwaine raise his head to say something to Merlin, that he could see the glint of tears in the knight's eyes.

Arthur grunted. "Its about time."

Gaius nodded his grave agreement before turning back to the work he'd been doing on some concoction or another.

"Is that for them?" Arthur asked somewhat idly, having decided to hang back with Gaius for the moment and give his men space to finish their business with his servant.

Gaius nodded patiently as he worked. "To help them recover their strength."

"And that one?" Arthur inclined his head at a vial that had already been prepared and set aside.

Gaius hesitated. "For Merlin," he admitted, "A sleeping draft. Pain in his chest has been keeping him up nights."

Arthur nodded solemnly, holding back the grimace that threatened surface on his face. "That reminds me," he said, by way of diversion- "are any of these sticks pinewood?"

Gaius looked mildly bewildered but glanced the bundle of firewood up and down. "Yes, sire. Most of them, in fact."

Arthur bit back a curse- he'd never hear the end of it from Merlin.

He glanced back across the clearing in time to see his servant..._laughing_...at the knights. It seemed to have started as a chuckle but in moments Merlin had to hold his side to keep his broken ribs from joining the party.

The knights still looked positively stricken.

Arthur turned back to the old physician and they shared a look of confused skepticism. Neither could fathom what could be so funny at what seemed like such a solemn moment.

By the time they glanced back again the group had dissolved and Merlin had seated himself by the fire to begin cooking their meal while all four knights were making their way over to Arthur and Gaius.

The old physician slipped his vials back into the medicine basket and hoisted it, walking back towards the fire muttering something about helping Merlin with the food.

Leon reached Arthur first and wordlessly took charge of the firewood with a deferential bow, bearing it to the fire where it earned a wide grin from Merlin, one which Arthur studiously ignored. The older knight returned swiftly and joined the others before their King.

Arthur crossed his arms and regarded them gravely. If they were ready to address their actions he was more than ready to give them a piece of his mind on the matter.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Merlin, who'd paused in his work to fix his master with a cautionary look. The servant's eyes said '_Go easy on them, will you?' _

Arthur flashed him a quick scowl that said, '_Not likely.'_

All four knights faced him with heads bowed. Then Elyan stepped forward, apparently the unlucky one elected spokesman.

"Well?" Arthur asked coolly.

Elyan looked up at him, though clearly not ready to meet his eyes, and began. "Sire we've come to confess. We are guilty of dereliction of duty and of abandoning the knight's code. We succumbed to a foul enchantment and in doing so endangered the lives of the very ones we were sent to protect. We can only admit our guilt and apologize, and we welcome whatever punishment you deem fit." He stepped back in line and there was silence.

"Punishment." Arthur said slowly. With almost no effort he allowed a fresh wave of righteous anger to sweep through him. Wrath came easily when he even considered what they had done or nearly done. But it was tempered by the pity expressed by both Gwen and Merlin. The two of them, servants both by some irony, were often the wisest people he knew.

"Indeed..." He trailed off as he came to a decision.

Then he barked the order, "On. Your. Knees."

All of them dropped without a moment's hesitation, heads remaining down.

Arthur drew his sword.

Not one of them flinched.

"Look at me." He ordered.

The reaction was slower to this. Heads came up uncertainly.

"Look me in the eyes!"

Four pairs of eyes came to rest on his wrathful features.

"I demand this, not that you would fear me," He said in a quiet, deadly tone, "-I have no need to claim your respect. Rather, I want you to experience what it is like to be vulnerable before someone who holds your life in their hands."

The regret in the eyes arrayed before him multiplied, but their gazes did not waver.

"Sir Gwaine." Arthur snapped, stepping up to the knight in question.

"Yes, my lord?" For once his voice did not contain a trace of sarcasm.

"Did Merlin show you the damage you and your fellows did to him?" Arthur asked.

Gwaine hesitated. "He...he refused to, sire."

Arthur nodded knowingly. "And I hardly blame him. It will be many weeks before _my servant,"_ he said it possessively, "will be able to lift his shirt without fear of embarrassment."

He stepped back and paced slowly before them.

"Sir Elyan." Arthur announced, stopping again.

The young man snapped to attention.

"How would you feel if you found that harm had befallen your sister at the hands of your fellow knights? At your own hand, even?"

Elyan gulped. "It would be an unthinkable betrayal sire. My rage and grief...would know no bounds."

"And how do you imagine _I_ would feel?"

"The same, my Lord. At the very least."

"At least." Arthur nodded, and resumed pacing.

"You ask for fit punishment." He said presently, taking a few practice swings with his sword, "And I must admit that a part of me can see no more fit a punishment than to have you each experience..."

He paused and lunged with his sword, sending it cleanly over Leon's right shoulder, "The raking of a mail-bound fist over un-protected flesh." He withdrew the blade, but not before clinking his mail gauntlet ominously over the chain links on the man's shoulder.

"A gauntlet back-handed across the mere tunic on your chest," he swept the sword across Elyan's midsection, expertly scratching a few tears in the fabric on either side of the pendragon seal.

"A booted foot to the unguarded back." He used the momentum from the swing to sweep around behind Percival and bring the sword's pommel down swiftly but lightly into the middle of the big man's back.

"Or a bone-crushing blow to the ribs." He wheeled his sword back around to thrust the tip into the mail on Gwaine's chest, exerting just an ounce of pressure against the ribs that had been so thoroughly broken on his servant's slight frame.

He paused there and said in an icy tone, "I could go on..." before stepping back and re-sheathing his sword. "...at length," he added meaningfully.

The knights remained silent and attentive as ordered, but Leon was pale as a ghost and looked about to die of shame, Elyan was frozen, expressionless, unable to react to his horror, Percival looked like he was about to be ill, and Gwaine's eyes were glistening at the corners once again.

Arthur's point had been made.

He crouched down to be at their level and his eyes narrowed. "But that's not what I'm going to do." He paused, "Because that's not what either of the people you endangered would have me do."

From the looks in their eyes he could tell that not all of them were glad of the leniency.

"They chose forgiveness and, knowing that your actions were not of your own choosing, so must I."

He stood and motioned for them join him on their feet and they reluctantly moved to comply.

"But there is still a matter of trust to be resolved."

"You all know that you are more to me than simply knights of Camelot," he explained after they'd finished standing. "As my father chose to form the knighthood of Camelot from those of his friends who fought with him capture it, so I chose you who fought with me to re-claim the kingdom as knights as well. My own knights."

He looked each of them in the eye as he went on, glad to see the guilt on their faces slowly easing.

"I count on each of you for your friendship and honesty, your counsel and advice, but most importantly I need to be able to trust you with the things I hold dearest, be they my kingdom or my lady or even my servant. That trust was shaken when you allowed yourselves to be taken by an enchantment that a woman and a, well- _Merlin_ - was able to resist, and you endangered the lives of your entire party. I need to know that such a thing will _not_ happen again, that I can rely on each of you to be faithful to his utmost ability."

Arthur stepped to one side of the group. "So I put it to you- Sir Leon, can I trust you?"

He extended a had to the group's senior knight and Leon took Arthur by the wrist, clasping his arm like a brother. "Yes, sire." He said simply, sincerely. "Always."

"Sir Elyan?" Arthur shifted to the next of them.

Elyan took the king's hand in both of his and bowed his head over it. "Yes, my lord. You can."

"Sir Percival?"

"My king!" Percival nodded vigorously and gave Arthur a crushing handshake.

"Sir Gwaine?"

The final knight took up Arthur's hand and clutched it to his own chest, drawing the king in slightly closer. "You know it, Arthur." Gwaine said in a low, meaningful voice, "To the mouth of hell and back."

Arthur allowed the ghost of a smile to flicker across his face before he stepped back.

"Very well, men." He said with grave approval, "Consider your bond of trust renewed."

He was pleased to see grateful smiles tentatively blossom on some faces.

"Your only punishment will be guard duty and extra practice for a fortnight when we return. We will not speak of this again."

He was greeted with nods of acceptance.

"Now," he broke into a grin and sniffed the air in an exaggerated way, "Let's get something to eat, shall we?" He punched a few shoulders good-naturedly as he pushed through his loyal friends and strode toward the fire.

Merlin was leaning over a pot of delicious looking stew but he was staring up at Arthur wearing an incisive look that said he'd heard every word of Arthur's conversation.

And then the servant broke into a smile.

Deep, warm, and sincere, it expressed one thing: pride in the actions of his friend and master.

Arthur just stalked on past Merlin, still smiling, though now a bit smugly, to take a seat by the fire.

He would never admit, least of all to Merlin himself, but it was by his servant's genuine expression of approval more than anything else by far, that the king of Camelot knew that he had indeed done very well.


	4. Chapter 4

_Note:_ Alright, so, as promised- the next chapter, coming to you in record time (for me, anyway)! And let me tell ya what: it's probably my very favorite bit of fiction of all the things I've _ever_ written! If this doesn't induce massive 'squeeee' and stimulate a flurry of reviews consisting mostly of "Awwwww!" and "Love them!" then, well, I might as well burn my pencil and unplug my keyboard, cause I apparently have zero insight into the fangirlish mind! And the funny thing is- I'd still keep a link open to this chapter, cause I love it so much I can't _not _read it again. Now go ahead and see if I've oversold this adorable bit of bromancy fluff, will you! And please, please, _please_ tell me if it makes you smile! Yoroshiku ne!

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><p>*<em>Chapter 4*<em>

"_Merlin." _Something whispered to the warlock in his sleep. His hazy dreams swirled vaguely and re-formed to include visions of Kilgharrah's shadowy form looming out of the darkness of the cavern. It was somewhat comforting to see his old friend as he used to. Somewhat gauling as well, when he remembered the events following the dragon's release.

"_Merlin._" But hang on a moment: he hadn't spoken with Kilgarrah like this in a long time. They'd had no need. Nowadays Merlin summoned Kilgharrah, not the other way round.

Perhaps it was druids, then. Druids? That wouldn't be good at all. Suspicions would be running high after all this trouble with the Lamia. Druids would do well to stay far away from Arthur and anyone else even linked to Camelot.

Merlin nearly sent out a mental warning when something poked him -hard- in the arm. Miraculously, it didn't hit a bruise, but it was enough to bring him back to reality with an undignified grunt.

_"MERLIN!" _the harsh whisper grated inches away from his ear this time.

"What?" Merlin's half-awake groan slurred the word into something more like 'whaaarl...?' as he turned his head and found himself staring into the shadowy but unmistakable face of his master.

He blinked slowly as he remembered the odd circumstances of the group's sleeping arrangements. While rank and age would normally put Arthur and Gaius and as many knights as possible closest to the fire for the night, this time there was some sort of unspoken mutual agreement that Merlin, too, would enjoy a prime fire-side sleeping location. After Arthur protested loudly about his servant's feet smelling even worse than Gwaine's, the two of them ended up lying head to head as part of the inner circle around the campfire.

"You awake?" Arthur asked, clearly trying to sound friendly- something only Arthur would be oblivious enough to do whilst rousing an exhausted friend in the dead of night.

"...am now..." Merlin grumbled semi-intelligibly in response.

Arthur either didn't catch the complaint in his friend's voice or didn't bother to dignify it with a response. "The others are out." He continued on.

Merlin turned his head to stare blearily around the fire. He didn't see any movement. All but the knight on watch must be asleep.

"The men are still getting their strength back," Arthur explained, "And a day on horseback must be tiring for an old man."

"But you're still up..." Merlin stated the fact that Arthur so obviously wanted him to point out.

"Yeah." The king flopped over onto his back, gazing at the stars through pine needles, "Not enough _action_ today," he complained, "We didn't _do_ enough to properly tire a person out, you know?"

Merlin didn't know. In fact, Merlin had done more than enough that day to thoroughly tire him out under normal circumstances, let alone while his entire body complained mightily about the smallest movement. Of course, tempted though he was, the servant opted not to mention any of this, choosing to tease rather than reprimand outright. "You _could_ go get some more firewood." He said with a groggy smile.

"_Merlin_..." Arthur's voice was low and threatening. Merlin was glad, not for the first time in the past few days, that he could probably count on his master's pity overriding his desire to thump him for his impudence.

"No, really," the servant continued, taking advantage of his probable immunity, "All that pinewood is only going to get us partway through the night so you probably ough..." he was cut short by the gasp of pain that escaped him as he made to roll over onto his elbows and accidentally chose the wrong direction to try it.

Broken ribs pressed into the unforgiving ground before he realized it and he hissed and curled instinctively, only compounding the agony, until a hand darted out to restrict his movements and ease him back down to the ground.

"Not that way, idiot!" Arthur snapped.

"No kidding," Merlin wheezed out, trying to catch his breath. When he was finally able, he eased over onto his other side.

"Good, now shift that arm back..."

Merlin was surprised at Arthur's voice joining in to direct him.

"Right, and move the other forward- don't tense up or it'll hurt more." The king went on, pointing occasionally to clarify.

In moments Merlin had succeeded in rolling over onto his elbows with relatively little pain, something he would not have guessed possible. He looked up to see Arthur facing him, lying in the same position and looking a tad pleased with himself.

"That was the voice of experience, I take it?" Merlin asked.

Arthur grimaced. "You have _no_ idea."

"Oh, I really think I do," Merlin pointed out. "Remember who has the pleasure of looking after you when you've done getting yourself beaten with blunt instruments, _for sport_?"

Arthur scowled.

"'_Help me off with this armor, Merlin, before my chest caves in!'" _the servant mimicked in a girly falsetto.

"I do _NOT_ sound like that!" Arthur objected.

"Sorry, did I not put enough condescension into the voice?"

Arthur pulled a face, "Its a good job I can't hit you right now," he hissed sourly, making a fist just for good measure.

"Don't I know it!" Merlin broke into a grin and Arthur couldn't help but join in.

"But I will admit-" Merlin finally said, "-this does give me a new appreciation for the risks you lot take."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I just...don't think I could go take a stand for glory and honor and Camelot if I knew that, even in victory, I might come home feeling like _this _for a month."

Arthur nodded in firm agreement. "Count yourself lucky that that's _usually_ not your burden to bear."

Merlin gave a thoughtful nod.

"I saw the knights making their apology to you." Arthur noted.

"And to you!" Merlin interjected, "And, from what I could see, you couldn't resist having a little fun with them!"

Arthur grinned wryly, "Well, I wouldn't say _fun_ exactly. They are good friends to me, all of them, and they all feel fairly horrible about what happened. I just had to make sure they understood the...gravity...of their crimes."

Merlin smiled, a little of the pride Arthur had noticed earlier creeping into the expression.

"Of course, I still don't know how on earth they found out." Arthur added thoughtfully.

"Ah, that's because there's someone we both forgot!" Merlin smiled.

Arthur was doubtful, "Oh?"

"Just think about it!"

Arthur frowned suspiciously.

"_Right_, forgot who I was talking to, sorry-"

_"Merlin!" _he cuffed the servant lightly across the top of the head and Merlin cringed while grinning, completely failing to appear wounded.

"Who's the only person who could tell them the truth with enough kindness that they wouldn't immediately set to falling on their swords?" Merlin went on.

"Gwen!" Arthur answered and Merlin nodded in pleased affirmation.

There was a moment of silence while Arthur got that funny look on his face that he always did when he was thinking of the gallant serving-girl. Even Merlin had to admit it was rather adorable.

"You're going to have to go ahead and marry her before long." He couldn't stop himself saying.

"I know!" Arthur said, much to Merlin's surprise. The king shifted a bit to lie on his side, propped up on just one arm. "It's fantastically complicated," he admitted, "and Agravaine's sure to give me hell for it, but frankly- It's got to be soon!"

He gave Merlin a '_you know what I mean, mate'_ nod, and Merlin gave him a '_I really don't want to know what you mean' _head shake in return.

Arthur barked a quiet laugh and went on, "Actually, I was wondering if that wouldn't be a little strange for you, Merlin. Me and Gwen, you know..."

The servant raised a hand to cut Arthur off, "No, nothing strange at all." Merlin said, "My two closest friends...sharing a bed...ruling the kingdom together...not awkward in the least!"

Arthur grinned broadly. "So I have your blessing, then?"

Merlin took a split second to marvel at the fact that the king of Camelot was asking for _his_ blessing in marriage, even in jest, before answering. "Arthur, Gwen is the only woman good enough to accept the queenship for your sake and the sake of the people, and wise enough to wield that power in justice. And she's the only woman who makes you truly happy. Of _course_ you have my blessing."

Arthur was practically beaming. "Thanks, friend!" He reached out and clasped Merlin's arm before really thinking about it.

He might not even have realized what he'd done if it hadn't been for the faintest flicker of pain in his servant's eyes and the unusual amount of heat radiating from the bruised part of the arm he'd just touched.

"_There you go again!_" Arthur exclaimed, changing tack so fast that Merlin was well and truly lost.

"There I go _where?_" he asked.

Arthur gave him a look of profound frustration. "Just- tell me that didn't hurt." He pointed to Merlin's arm.

"That didn't hurt." Merlin said flatly, frowning in confusion.

"And now you're _lying_ to me!"

"What? You! You just _told_ me to say that!"

"And you did it so _well_! Like lying to cover up an injury is second nature to you!" Arthur's hand pointed accusingly at his servant.

"And...thats...bad...?" Merlin's eyebrow arced incredulously, genuinely confused as to what his master was on about.

"I'll have you know that any one of my knights who is found to be concealing an injury of any significance is sent to the stocks!"

"Oh, you're threatening me with the stocks now? Really?" Merlin let a bit of hurt into his voice, and a lot of indignation, just for good measure, "Cause honestly, I think it would be faster _and_ less painful if you just killed me right now."

"No, I-" Arthur rolled his eyes. "I just mean-" He blew out a breath in irritation and continued. "If its not a problem for the knights to keep me appraised...why should it be a problem for you?"

"Well in case you hadn't noticed- knights and servants operate in completely different ways."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, for example, if a knight fails to report an injury and collapses in battle, his loss may influence the outcome of the engagement; lives and territory may be lost."

Arthur nodded.

"If a servant fails to report an injury and collapses on duty- somebody else brings you your supper. You see the difference?"

Arthur pursed his lips but didn't reply.

"The point is - part of a servant's business is to keep his business to himself. Ask any servant how he's doing and it's 'Very well, my lord, and how are you?' not 'Well, I've had a headache all day.' or 'My knees are killing me.' Its simply the way things are meant to be, and I'm certainly not in any position to change them."

Arthur's brow furrowed. Clearly he was trying to work out how to acknowledge the truth behind Merlin's words while still having his own way in the end.

"Well," he began, "I can appreciate that you want to hang on to the _one _skill you seem to have picked up in _four years_ of service, but you're failing to account for one thing."

Merlin cocked his head.

"Somewhere along the line, against better judgement and the natural order of things, you and I," he flicked a finger back and forth between them, "I'm forced to admit- became friends."

Though part of Merlin was smiling inside, he kept up his look of skepticism.

"And friends don't keep important things from each other, like injuries or heartache or difficult decisions..." the king pointedly named off a few things that he frequently shared with his friend and servant.

"I suppose not..." Merlin said slowly, guilt blossoming inside him has he realized that those were all things Arthur shared with him, but he virtually never shared with Arthur.

"But you see - the problem solves itself, doesn't it?"

Merlin gave him a quizzical look.

"As your friend I can prefer that you stop keeping important things from me, and as your master I can order it!" He smiled broadly. "From here on out I require that you inform me of any all major injuries or illnesses, and I expect an honest answer if I enquire about your wellbeing." He nodded firmly as if to add finality to his pronouncement.

Merlin stared at his master, trying to gage Arthur's seriousness against how he wanted to respond. "As your servant," Merlin said carefully, "I will, of course, comply with your orders to the best of my ability. As your friend...I'll try my best but I make no promises." He gave a half-smile but still looked at Arthur uncertainly.

Arthur nodded, as if the non-commital response was expected, and said, "Alright then, let's put it to the test, shall we?" He leaned forward again, propped up on his elbows like Merlin, and looked his servant in the eyes, "How are you _feeling_, _Mer_lin?" He asked, pointing an open palm to his servant, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Merlin frowned. "How am I feeling? right now?"

Arthur nodded, affecting patience, and rested his chin in his hands, looking at Merlin expectantly.

"Well, to be completely honest: I'm exhausted and I hurt all over. Despite Gaius's binding, I feel like I'm being stabbed in the chest just a bit every time I take a breath. Four of my best friends still feel dreadful about something that wasn't their fault, and yet I still can't stop myself seeing fists and boots every now and then when I look them in the eyes. Oh, and the _prat_ I work for decided it would be a grand idea to wake me up the moment I finally, after all these restless nights, fell asleep." He paused, thinking, "And you want to know the worst part? It hasn't even _actually_ been that awful a day!"

Having finished, Merlin paused again, waiting.

Arthur didn't comment.

He waited a tick longer.

"Arthur?" he asked, suspicions growing.

He couldn't see his friend's features all that clearly in the low firelight, "Arthur, if you've fallen asleep...!"

"Merlin is your head sore?" came the sudden unexpected question.

It caught Merlin off guard and he actually had to think about it.

"Um...no, I suppose not." He thought for a moment. "You saying I should be thankful for that? 'Cause I hardly thi..."

He suddenly had an arm around his neck and felt knuckles being ground into his skull in an all too familiar manner.

"Ow! Get offa me, would you!" he complained, though he noticed distantly that he had been captured in a way that somehow avoided aggravating any of the worst of his injuries. He twisted and pushed against his friend's arms till the ridiculous king finally released him, though not before cuffing him lightly over the head once more for good measure, grinning all the while.

Merlin rubbed his head, wearing something akin to a pout, and Arthur sent him huge smile and the all too familiar turn of phrase: "Don't be such a girl, _Mer_lin."

Merlin looked up and failed to suppress a short laugh.

"That's better." Said Arthur, approvingly.

And despite the indignity and the pain, Merlin smiled deeply, knowing that for all the years they'd spent together this was one of Arthur's only means of cheering up his friend. Merlin got the message.

"Now," Arthur changed directions amiably, "Those ribs really giving you a hard time at night?"

Merlin looked down at himself then back up at Arthur with suspicion. "...Yes." He said cautiously.

"Right, well I might just be able to help with that." He sat halfway up and began extricating himself from his bedroll.

Merlin gave him a disbelieving look. "Unless you're keeping some sort of magical elixir hidden in there..."

Arthur looked up in mild disgust. "Don't be stupid, _Mer_lin."

"If you fall asleep lying like this..." the king stretched out on top of his bedroll and assumed a position that looked remarkably like he was welcoming a particular sort of visitor to his bed.

"Oh you have _got_ to be joking..." groaned Merlin.

Arthur sprang up, snatched the small pillow that was a particular luxury of his royal bedroll, and clouted the servant. "Do you want to sleep without pain, or don't you?" He hissed.

Merlin looked skeptical, but finally nodded. "Fine..." he said, and began shifting onto his uninjured side, "So it was like this?"

"Yes,- no!" Arthur scooted over to assist.

"Make up your mind!"

"Just, stop! You're getting tangled in your blankets!"

"Blanket."

"What?"

"Blanket. I only _have_ one."

"Really _Mer_lin? Semantics? Right now?"

Merlin sighed, "_Fine."_

"Now shift forward, there."

"Ow!"

"_That_ was not my fault."

"I know..."

"You have got to be the only person _in the world_ clumsy enough to fall down- _when you're already lying on the ground!_"

"...thanks."

"Have you got it now?"

"Think so."

"Right, shift this arm over here..."

"Ok."

"...and how does that feel?"

Merlin took a long but still tentative breath. "Whoa." He inhaled again, more deeply. "That's amazing! I can barely feel my ribs!"

Arthur grinned widely and nodded, clearly pleased with the results of his instruction.

Merlin let out a profoundly contented sigh and closed his eyes, as if about to fall asleep on the spot.

"Hang on," Arthur protested, "You're not sleeping yet, clot-pole. Shift your arm under here first!"

Merlin gave his master an unhappy look. "That part of my arm is one big bruise. Sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"Merlin," said Arthur in a deadly growl, "You are _NOT _falling asleep- _on MY arm!_"

Merlin glanced sideways at the forearm that Arthur had wedged under his head to help demonstrate the correct position. "Fine." he said. "Is there something else I could use?"

Arthur saw the wood pile and suggested, "What about a log?"

Merlin's face wrinkled. "Too hard, and all the ones big enough have been burned already." He tried without success to keep the smirk out of his voice.

"We could stuff one of your boots with all of our socks."

Merlin looked horrified, "Only if you want to kill me with noxious fumes! No thanks!"

Arthur kept looking around while Merlin kept looking sleepier.

"Fine." The king finally said sourly. He lifted the servant's head slightly with one hand, grabbed his pillow with the now freed limb and jammed in unceremoniously under Merlin's face. "Happy now?"

He peered imperiously down on his groggy friend's face and couldn't help but catch the smile of pure contentment that crossed the younger man's features.

"Yep." Merlin said, not bothering to open his eyes.

Arther snorted, and shifted back to crawl under his own blankets. He blew out a tired sigh as he shifted to rest his head on his arm in lieu of his pillow.

He realized that, strangely, he now felt tired enough to sleep.

He glanced up at the back of Merlin's head, just a few feet away from his own, and idly remembered something.

"Say, Merlin."

"Hm?"

"Back when the knights were apologizing to you- what on _earth_ were you laughing about?"

"Oh," Merlin gave a short chuckle. "Well they insisted that I find a way they could square up with me, you know, make up for what they'd done."

Arthur nodded, "Mmhm."

"It took me a minute, but I figured out the perfect thing to ask them for."

Arthur waited, but Merlin didn't continue.

"And?" he finally asked.

"And what?"

"What was funny?"

"What I asked them for was funny. They would have thought so too, if they hadn't been feeling guilty already." Merlin paused, thinking apparently slowly, "And if they didn't have to find a way to get it themselves." he added.

"Well, damnit, what did you ask them for!" Demanded Arthur, clearly fresh out of patience.

"Oh, I can't say..." Merlin interrupted himself with a massive yawn, "That would spoil the surprise."

Arthur blinked. "Surprise?"

"Merlin, what surprise?" he turned urgently to his servant, but the younger man wasn't responding.

"Merlin!"

The only movement was the rise and fall of the servant's chest in the deep, slow cadence of sleep.

"_MERLIN._"

Nothing.

After a moment indecision, Arthur settled back down with an uneasy yawn. It would probably be unfair to wake his friend a second time that night.

Luckily for Merlin, Arthur completely failed to notice his servant snuggling a tad deeper into the royal pillow and allowing himself a single mischievous grin as he nodded off to sleep.

_Note (part 2): _I know- I don't do endnotes ordinarily. But I couldn't very well ask you this question beforehand, could I? What do you think the surprise is going to be? True, I already have an idea, but I really want to know what you think and, who knows, I may end up using one of your ideas instead! Now, please go ahead and make my day- hit that 'review' button!


	5. Chapter 5

_Note:_ Wow…what can I say… I had thought that January was the busiest month of my year… I have never been so wrong. Trust me when I say, March has been a tale of woe that you really _don't_ want to read. Frankly, I'm somewhat surprised that I survived to finally bring you this chapter. Speaking of finally… *shifty-look-of-embarrassment* … I had really and truly intended for this to be the final chapter of this odd piece of writing..but once again I underestimated my propensity for long-windedness (What? No!) and I got this far before being forced to acknowledge that indeed the Camelot section of the plot could only fit into two chapters. On the plus side, I did have the chance to try my hand at writing Gwaine for the first time. As tardy as the chapter was, I'm in no position to beg for reviews, but I would be eternally indebted to any Gwaine fans out there if you would tell me how you think I did with him. In any case, the final chapter is begun and will be forthcoming. As always- yoroshikutanomu yo! And thank you for your reviews, favorites, alerts, and most importantly- your patience! ~Aoi

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><p>*<em>Chapter 5*<em>

"_Mer_lin," Arthur remarked as he went about the usual morning preparations in his chambers. His tone spoke of a complaint forthcoming, though that was hardly unusual at this hour.

"Yes, sire?" the servant replied, as chipper as ever in the cool light that flooded the room from the bared window. They were two days back in Camelot and Merlin, for one, was deeply satisfied that things were finally back to business as usual.

"How is it that you cleaned this entire room last night, and still managed to miss that corner," he gestured to the far end of the room, _"Again?"_

Merlin swung around crisply to look at the corner and turned just as swiftly back to Arthur. "Ran out of time," he explained in a clipped tone and handed Arthur a shirt carefully chosen with a mind to the king's schedule for the day.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur was incredulous, "You had _loads_ of time!"

"I didn't." Merlin corrected firmly. "You came in with Gwen quite early, if you recall."

"Yeah. And I told you the two of us were going to go stroll the promenade. So what was there to stop you cleaning?"

Merlin gave him a look that was half reprimand, half disgust. "Arthur, surely you don't think I'd _ever_ want to watch you and Gwen _stroll..._the _promenade..."_ He added particular weight and meaning to each of those last words and gave Arthur a knowing look.

The king, who had one arm halfway through a shirt sleeve, took a step back in surprise, face contorted in horror, "_Merlin!_" He exclaimed, momentarily at a loss for any other words.

"You," he scrambled the rest of the way into his shirt before stepping forward again and poking a finger in his servant's chest. "You have a _filthy_ mind!"

Merlin skillfully feigned confusion. "So you two...didn't stay here?" He asked as innocently as he could manage.

"We. Did. Not!"

"And when you said 'stroll the promenade...'"

"I meant _walk _around the perimeter of the courtyard. Which is _all_ we did!"

Merlin stared at his master a moment, trying to appear as if he was deciding whether or not he was being had. He finally shrugged. "Well I guess you're right:"

Arthur gave him a suspicious look.

"I did have time, after all."

The king snorted, but continued to scrutinize his servant, apparently wondering if Merlin had been replaced by an impostor.

Merlin shrugged apologetically as he proffered the next article of clothing. "I must be spending too much time with Gwaine," he said by way of explanation.

"Oh, don't get me started on _that_ lazy drunkard!" Arthur exclaimed at the mention of his knight's name. "Did you know- he never showed up for training yesterday! Didn't show his face at his guard post either. _Complete_ dereliction of duty! I swear, if that irresponsible git spent the day in the tavern I'll have his sorry backside in the stocks for a week, knight or not."

Arthur finished his tirade and realized that Merlin, who had been lacing the back of his padded shirt, had stopped quite suddenly. He turned to find his servant fidgeting and wearing an expression of mild embarrassment.

"I _may _know where Gwaine's been, sire." Merlin supplied, in answer to Arthur's unspoken demand.

The king arched an eyebrow. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Well...you see..." Merlin was clearly doing some fast thinking, "When we arrived back in Camelot he received a message...from his..." he seemed to be deciding, "sister."

Arthur stared flatly, so Merlin went on.

"She's been sick and needed him at home, so he left at first light yesterday. I was meant to tell you, but I..."

"-you forgot." Arthur finished for him, his look of skepticism firmly in place.

Then he started laughing.

Merlin blinked. Laughter was not among the various reactions he'd been anticipating.

"This!" Arthur exclaimed between chuckles, "We've done this before!" He pointed back and forth between himself and his confused servant.

"No..." Merlin not sure whether to go for bewildered or innocent.

"_This_ is you covering for someone."

Merlin frowned and shook his head- right, shooting for innocence.

Arthur, however, was only nodding, already certain of his conclusion. "Only _before_ you were covering for _me_ to my father. Now you're covering for _Gwaine _to _me_!" He paused in thought. "Not, sure how much I like being on this side of it, actually."

Merlin seized the opportunity to regain composure and smoothly set back to work getting the king into his chain-maille. "_Fortunately _there's nothing not to like," he assured patiently, "Since Gwaine, really did leave to visit his sister and I really did forget to tell you."

Arthur looked over his shoulder at Merlin as he was shrugging into the chain shirt, "You _really_ managed to fool _my_ father with lies as obvious as that?" he asked with bemusement.

"_Your father _would have believed me from the first," Merlin grumbled. At Arthur's look of disbelief he went on, "Don't look so surprised! You know he was only ever blindly trusting where you were concerned."

Arthur looked wistful for a moment as he stood for Merlin to secure his belt. He gave a snort of derision when his impish friend gave it an extra tug to shake him from his reverie. "No, my father just didn't have the misfortune of knowing _you_ as well as I do." He intoned.

Merlin looked up at him wearing his best self-satisfied grin, as if to thank him for the compliment, before proceeding to retrieve the boots.

"So, what, now you go to the stocks for Gwaine?" Arthur asked, looking pointedly at Merlin's still-healing ribs.

"That's usually the next order of business," Merlin answered with a grimace as he stood stiffly and surveyed his handiwork, finally nodding to indicate that the job was finished.

"Then you'd better be glad I know you well enough not to believe you!" the king said, poking Merlin in the shoulder before sweeping out of the room.

Merlin stood still, and then turned to look at the corner of the room he'd left untouched. The corner where, under several layers of discarded items of clothing, a particularly fine and particularly tarnished suit of armor was hiding. A suit of armor which Arthur had specifically asked Merlin to polish several weeks ago, at least.

Merlin smiled to himself, pleased and relieved to have so skillfully diverted their conversation away from _that corner_ of the room.

He turned to go, but was interrupted mid-step by a voice calling back from the hallway.

"_And don't forget to polish my ceremonial armor, Merlin_!"

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><p>"Merlin! I've found the..." Gwaine's exclamation died on his lips as he burst in on an unexpected sight.<p>

It was a few hours later into the same day and, ignoring armor-related orders, Merlin had made time to stop in with Gaius to ask the old physician to re-bind his ribs.

Gwaine was stood, statuesque, in front of the door, mouth slightly agape as he took in his first glimpse of his friend's half-healed frame. Though Gaius's binding covered the worst of the bruising, purple and blue shapes were fading and spreading to yellows, browns, and greens on the younger man's exposed arms and torso like some macabre exercise in portraiture.

Merlin couldn't hide his wince as he turned to look at Gwaine. It wasn't a wince of fear, though, just his sudden regret at his friend seeing what he'd taken great pains to keep hidden. He fought off the urge to grab his shirt from the table and cover himself, knowing that shame would not do anything to ease his friend's conscience.

Gaius didn't spare a glance for the intruder but quietly commented, "If only you would instruct your visitors to _knock..._" at Merlin's predicament. The physician made a final check of his handiwork before turning away to work on a preparation at the other side of the room, graciously allowing Merlin to address his friend in relative privacy.

"Merlin..." was all Gwaine could say as he remained frozen in place.

The servant collected himself and gingerly hopped down from the work table, making his way slowly over to Gwaine.

"Merlin, I..." the knight backpedaled, trying to maintain distance between him and the friend he'd clearly victimized.

"Gwaine." Merlin said calmly.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't know, I..." Gwaine stammered, continuing to retreat as his friend advanced.

"Gwaine." The servant's voice was strangely authoritative this time, and Merlin reached out and grabbed the knight's forearm before he could move to re-open the door.

Gwaine looked at the hand like it was burning him.

A long moment of silence passed between them.

'I've had dreams, Merlin." Gwaine said quietly at last. "We all have. I'd hoped that was all they were. Dreams. Not memories." A slight shudder ran through him.

Merlin shook his head, "You've already been forgiven, you _know _that. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't even _you._"

Gwaine looked down and swallowed visibly, when he looked up again his eyes were glistening, "Then why do I remember feeling the hate and the rage? Why do I remember lashing out? Why do I remember _liking_ it?"

Merlin looked down with a sigh, though he still didn't release his grip on the knight's arm. "The Lamia's magic is a cruel and vicious enchantment. But it is _her_ enchantment. You're remembering what _she _made you feel, what _she_ made you do. I know you are not responsible. I _know_ that you would never hurt me." He slowly raised Gwaine's arm till the hand came to rest on his own bare right shoulder. "All that remains is for you to forgive yourself." Merlin gave a sad, knowing smile.

Gwaine's soulful gaze lingered on his hand where it sat on that thin, discolored shoulder. His look of guilt was slowly replaced with wonderment as his eyes wandered up to his young friend's open, smiling face. There were plenty of things in Gwaine's life for which he would probably never forgive himself. But looking into those earnest eyes he knew that somehow failing to forgive himself would only serve to further hurt his friend.

He let out the breath that he didn't know he'd been holding and it eased into a small laugh. "Only you, Merlin." He gave his friend's shoulder the lightest squeeze. "You are _seriously_ a piece of work, mate!" His tentative smile broke into its much more customary wry grin and he enveloped his friend in a gentle but very brotherly hug.

Merlin's smile of satisfaction practically beamed.

"Now," Gwaine went on, leading his friend back to the workbench and depositing a large sack on its surface with a loud 'thunk', "It wasn't easy, but I found all the..." he saw Merlin shoot him a warning look and glance pointedly at Gaius, "..._items_...you sent me for." Gwaine loosened the lacing on the bag as Merlin slipped back into his shirt.

They checked once more to be sure Gaius was ignoring them before opening the bag wide and peering inside.

"You wouldn't believe what I had to do to get some of these things." the knight intoned a tad smugly.

"Oh?" asked Merlin absently, busy scrutinizing the contents.

"_That_ bit-," Gwaine said, reaching in and pointing before launching into the story, "I had to get this dwarf down in Eastfold _reeeeally_ drunk to get my hands on that! And dwarves are _mean_ drunks, ya know."

Merlin nodded, though he really, really _didn't_ know.

"I came _this close _to losing an eye to that little bastard and his_ pinwheeling knives of doom_."

Merlin was about to make a suitably incredulous remark but Gwaine was already going strong and there was no interrupting.

"..but one of the barmaids told me he had a weakness for big Mercian women and I just happen to know this real swarthy Mercian lass who lives just up the hill in Upper Eastfold, and when I say 'know' I mean she owes me a few favors, and I'm not just talking about the time she rescued me from those Brindian bandits back in Southend a few winters back, although that definitely does count as a favor, 'cause when a Mercian woman 'rescues' you, she considers it her right to 'rescue' you in every _possible_ sense of the word, and I was kind enough to let her 'rescue' me _several_ times. But I cached in those favors a few bar-fights back (she can lay a man flat with a single swing, and I don't just mean in the 'rescuing' sense) so the favor I called in for this particular bit of wooing was...lets see... oh, I inadvertently found a bride for her younger brother! By happy coincidence this little gal from _Lower_ Eastfold got it in her head that I needed killing (she discovered that I didn't share her feelings about committed relationships) and at the same time the younger brother was trying to kill me over some _horrible_ misconceptions about my intentions for his sister, and one near-fatal stab wound later the two of them found true love! Now what was I..."

"Dwarf," Merlin supplied, listening raptly to Gwaine's outrageous rambling, as only he ever did.

"Right! The drunken dwarf! Well, long story short: Got Gorman drunk, introduced him to Ella, and pretty soon the little man would've given me his first born son!"

"Wait, 'Ella?'" asked Merlin.

"What, you know her?" Gwaine was skeptical. He knew his friend didn't get out much, leastwise without Arthur dragging him along, and he happened to know that Arthur was _not _partial to Mercian women, not for lack of effort on Gwaine's part.

Merlin shook his head. "No, it's just...'Ella'...it seems like such an elegant name..."

"Merlin," Gwaine used his most stern tone and put a firm hand on his young friend's shoulder, "Its no good judging a person on their size or background, mate. I'll have you know that Mercian women are among the most elegant you'll ever meet, whiskers notwithstanding."

As expected, Merlin looked completely aghast, and quite possibly a little sick.

Gwaine burst into laughter. "'s a joke, Merlin!" He finally said, but then shook his head to contradict himself, leaving Merlin to forever wonder if Mercian women really did grow facial hair.

At Merlin's continued look of confusion all Gwaine had to say was, "The lads and I have really got to get you to more taverns!"

Merlin just grimaced and chuckled uneasily. The last thing he needed was for Arthur to see him coming out of a tavern with Gwaine (or anyone else, for that matter)

When at last he'd got done having his laugh Gwaine finally pointed back toward the sack, "All that is to say- that one piece there is worth several dozen times its weight in beer and bodily fluids!" The knight grinned.

Merlin nodded sagely, for the most part succeeding in masking his disgust.

"Now this," Gwaine fished an item from the bag that looked like some strange combination of a gnarled root-vegetable and a brushy herb, "I don't even rightly know what this is," he gave the thing a shake for emphasis (Merlin didn't actually know either- it was simply on the the reagents list for the spell, and he wasn't about to tell Gwaine that), "But, believe it or not, I had a hell of a lot _more_ trouble getting my hands one one of these!" The knight pulled up a stool and sat down with his elbows on the table, hands up and ready to help animate yet another tale of adventure and peril. Or, as Arthur frequently called it, "mindless chatter."

Merlin pulled up a stool of his own and sat attentive, as always both fascinated and horrified, ready to engage in what he considered to be some quality time with his best friend.

"So apparently in Brindia the women use ...whatever-this-is... for..._you know_." He let the statement hang in the air until Merlin looked sufficiently appalled, then went on, "I know- I thought I knew everything there was to know about Brindian women, but I found out how wrong I was when I walked into a Brindian tavern and started asking about _these_ by name! Suddenly I'm surrounded by half a dozen women brandishing the sharpest looking daggers you ever saw in your life, and each of them looks like she knows how to use it. So the only thing I can do is..."

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><p>Whether it was several minutes or several hours before Gwaine finished recounting the tales of his acquisition-related adventures, neither of them could tell, but before long Gwaine was finishing with a, "So I haven't the foggiest idea what all of these things have to do with forging, but they're all here. Every last one!" He looked expectantly at Merlin, waiting to be informed.<p>

"Well... it's science, Gwaine," Merlin attempted to explain. "Isn't that right, Gaius."

On the other side of the room Gaius, to his credit, just nodded.

"You know, chemicals reacting with heat and pressure...that sort of thing." Merlin went on.

Gwaine gave him look of mild incredulity. "And when did you become learned in the "science" of forging rare metals?"

Merlin grinned, "I'm apprenticed to the most learned man in all of Camelot. Eclectic knowledge comes with the trade."

A snort issued from the other side of the room where Gaius failed to conceal it as a cough.

Gwaine shook his head with a smile. "Whatever you say, mate. This whole scheme is a damned strange request, if you ask me. When we offered to make recompense...I dunno if a gift for Arthur was what we-"

"Trust me," Merlin cut his friend off, "this is twice the gift to me that it is to Arthur."

Gwaine gave him a long look. "Right then. Well," he nudged the sack full of strange items towards Merlin, "Then it looks like my part is done."

Merlin nodded gratefully, "Thanks, Gwaine."

The knight stood and pushed aside his stool, "My pleasure!" he said with a mock bow and a broad grin.

Having just listened to a full accounting of Gwaine's exploits in acquiring those items, Merlin could well believe it was.

Gwaine wound his way towards the exit but stopped just before reaching the door, "Say," he said, as something occurred to him, "Did you manage to excuse my absence to Arthur?"

Merlin grimaced, "Not exactly."

Gwaine cocked his head.

"...well, I'm just not sure he was entirely convinced."

"Ah." Gwaine said, and then shrugged. He didn't appear overly upset by the news.

"But if he asks you, we might have a chance if you tell him that you got word that your sister was ill and you went to visit her. That's the story I went with."

"My _sister_?" Gwaine laughed, "Merlin, I've told you about my sister! She doesn't get ill! She's too nasty to get ill. If anything, she _is_ the illness!"

Merlin was shaking his head, Gwaine didn't know why.

"If I ever go to _take care_ of my sister, it'll be to take care of her once and for all, if you know what I mean."

Merlin coughed once, quite loudly, looked pointedly over Gwaine's shoulder, then gazed guiltily down at his own feet.

Gwaine paused, then, "Arthur?" he asked Merlin.

Merlin nodded fractionally.

"Standing right behind behind me?"

Merlin grimaced and nodded again.

Gwaine spun around with a flourish, hands in the air, wearing his most charming grin to which (unfortunately) only Arthur ever seemed completely immune. "Your highness!" He said with a surprisingly graceful bow, "Fancy meeting you here."

The king, who had just been passing by when he'd heard the familiar wisecracking of his missing knight, glared, "Your voice carries, Gwaine." Arthur growled.

Merlin shuffled backwards in an attempt to slink away, mumbling "...I think I should go help Gaius with the..."

"_MERLIN!_"

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><p>Twenty minutes later saw Gwaine and Merlin side by in the stocks, down in the lower town.<p>

The squishiest of rotten vegetables were flying at them in a steady barrage.

"Well..." Gwaine said looking at his friend, still grinning madly.

Merlin turned his head toward the knight, wearing a smile of his own.

"...that could have gone better!"

* * *

><p>Back in his own chambers, Merlin eased his tomato encrusted shirt over his head and began using the cleaner side of it to scrub more of the stuff loose of his hair.<p>

"And what manner of foolishness earned you a visit to the stocks in spite of your current...condition?" Merlin was fairly unsurprised to see Gaius stepping into his room.

"Well, I sent Gwaine to get some things for me and then I covered for him to Arthur...badly."

Gaius gave him a markedly disapproving glare, but decided not to pursue that line of questioning. He looked his ward up and down. "No new bruises, I see."

Merlin smiled, "Between angry rants Arthur somehow found time to ensure no heavy projectiles were in the arsenal today. If it wasn't Arthur, I'd swear he'd done it by magic."

"Take care not to underestimate your king, Merlin. It may be difficult to see past the prince you served as a friend, but Arthur is growing into the ruler he's destined to be and you may want to consider that he is growing in wisdom and perspicacity, not just responsibility."

Merlin blinked, "Are we talking about the same Arthur?"

Gaius frowned as only Gaius could. "To that end-" he began in an even more grave tone, "You may have fooled Gwaine about the purpose of those items you had him procure, but I know magical reagents when I see them. Whatever you're planning, Merlin, I trust after all these years that I don't have to warn you against recklessly performing magic in the castle..."

Merlin gave a half smile as he held up a fresh shirt and began pulling it on. "Gaius, you don't know how many times I've performed magic _right under Arthur's nose_ and not been noticed."

"Nor do I care to. I'm not concerned with the times you've gotten away with magic, Merlin. What concerns me is the one and only time you _fail_ to get away with it."

Merlin stood and stretched, settling into his too-big red shirt. Then he pulled a blue neckerchief off of a shelf with a snap and began fastening it about his neck. "Then you have nothing to worry about." he assured his mentor. "The only magic involved in _this _is subtle enough that even _you _might not notice it. In fact, there's no more magic involved than Uther himself unwittingly permitted." The warlock grabbed the belt off his bed and made for the door.

Gaius frowned archly. "Just, promise you'll be careful, Merlin!" He called after his retreating apprentice.

"_I always am!_" Merlin answered cheerily as he went out the door.

Gaius blew out a breath. Just what he was afraid of.


End file.
